


Housekeeper

by goldandbluekisses



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Aomine has a potty mouth, Fluff, M/M, Minor OC - Freeform, idk how to tag, maybe angst later on -rubs hands evilly-, some bad words
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-26 07:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3841507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldandbluekisses/pseuds/goldandbluekisses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Whatever,” he shrugged. “Just another job. I don’t really give a shit if he’s some popular prince or model or whatever. As long as he’s outta the house and outta the way when I’m there cleaning. And as long as he leaves a good tip.”</p><p>Daiki pulled a lazy thumbs up, and Wakamatsu rolled his eyes as Satsuki giggled.</p><p>“You’re so silly and simple, Dai-chan!”</p><p>Yep. That was the way Daiki liked his life. Simple. </p><p>i.e.) th e one story in which the house cleaner becomes the housekeeper</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Aomine's House Cleaning Service

It wasn’t like Daiki had wanted anything special to happen in his life. If anything, he just wanted a simple, free life—one that didn’t require extra effort or stress or anything that made him have to shift his own gears every day. So why the _hell_ was he working at a part-time cleaning maid service at the age of 22?

“For the last time, this is _not_ a cleaning maid service.” Wakamatsu, the manager of the place rubbed the bridge of his nose, as if that would ease the many headaches to come. “For god’s sake, Aomine. This is a regular cleaning service. Get it right.”

Daiki sneered as he leaned back against the desk that literally everyone in the cleaning service shared. The desk seemed to be an unofficial meeting place where Wakamatsu would gather the cleaning crew and assign them to different homes. It was always such a drag, but every time Daiki tried to skip, he was only dragged back by Satsuki, always reprimanding him along the way about how she pulled so many strings to get him this job.

“This is _totally_ a maid service. I mean, look at these _maid outfits._ ” Daiki tugged at his awfully scratchy white polo covered by a black jacket, with _Touou House Cleaning Service_ proudly embroidered on the back in red. _“_ Why can’t we just wear what we wanna wear?”

Wakamatsu scoffed, glaring at his employee so hard that Daiki could imagine laser beams shooting out of his pupils. Haha. Funny image right there.

“They’re called _uniforms,_ you dimwit. Now get to work before I fire you.” The manager tried to block out the rude “nah you wouldn’t” from the tanned idiot while he looked through his files. “Looks like you’ve got a new place to start cleaning at today. The owner’s name is Kise Ryouta.”

“No way! You mean _the_ Kise Ryouta?” Satsuki’s head peeked into the toolshed/room/office, clearly interested in the conversation. “Like, the model?”

“Hah? Since when were you interested in shallow celebrities? Didn’t think you were into that kinda shit.”

“That’s ‘cuz I’m not into that kinda shit,” Satsuki scowled at Daiki, shaking her head at her childhood friend. “It’s just that a bunch of my girlfriends from university are all over him lately. Apparently, he hit his debut as the most popular model a couple months ago. I saw a commercial with him in it the other day, and wow—he made that ice cream look very… sexy. He also has that princely aura.”

Daiki tried thinking back to the commercials he’s seen while watching his basketball games on TV, tried replaying any ice cream commercials that were _sexy_ but nope.  If there weren’t any big boobs, it wasn’t sexy. Nothing clicked, so he just waved it off.

“Whatever,” he shrugged. “Just another job. I don’t really give a shit if he’s some popular prince or model or whatever. As long as he’s outta the house and outta the way when I’m there cleaning. And as long as he leaves a good tip.”

Daiki pulled a lazy thumbs up, and Wakamatsu rolled his eyes as Satsuki giggled.

“You’re so silly and simple, Dai-chan!”

Yep. That was the way Daiki liked his life. Simple.

* * *

 

“Well, shit.”

Daiki looked up at the very grand apartment or whatever the hell this huge ass building was that housed the great Kise Ryouta. It was huge, looming over him and making him feel like an ant or something, and Daiki wasn’t exactly short for his age.

 _Guess he really is a model. Probably has the big bucks,_ he thought to himself, walking in through the huge glass doors and hoping there’d be an elevator.

He buzzed in at the front desk, with a confused secretary who apparently thought a woman was coming in to clean the apartment. Daiki chuckled to himself.

_I told that idiot Wakamatsu that we’re a cleaning maid service. I should make a bet on whether next time people get confused over our services._

He climbed into an elevator (there were like, six of them, goodness gracious), and luckily there was enough room for the cleaning supplies that he brought with him. He didn’t really have to squeeze in; there were only a couple of people inside the elevator: an old lady and probably her grandchild. The kid looked up at Daiki, and he smiled back at her as she hid behind her grandma. Her long brown hair swayed behind her as she squeezed her grandma’s arm.

“Granny, this big man is scary,” her little voice was muffled behind her grandmother’s sweater, and Daiki’s face softened a little.

Seriously though, he didn’t look like it, but Daiki was actually pretty fond of kids. He would never want any of his own, but he enjoyed their easygoing attitudes and open minds. He’d never admit it, but if he wasn’t going to college part time and working with the cleaning service, he’d probably work at a daycare or something.

Daiki leaned down so that his dark blue eyes met her warm brown ones.

“It’s okay. I’m not _that_ scary.” He grinned and handed her a lollipop. “Take this.”

After she hesitantly took the candy, Daiki lifted his hand up for a high five. She tried to clap her hand with his, but then Daiki stood to his full height, pulling his arm to where her little hand couldn’t reach.

The girl jumped and jumped, shouting “No fair! No fair!” until they stopped at their floor.

“Come now, Sara, time to go.” The grandmother smiled at Daiki, her face wrinkled with age and wisdom. “Thank you for the candy, sir. Say thank you, Sara.”

“Thanks sir!” The little girl named Sara ran after her grandmother after throwing Daiki a cheeky grin, and he smirked, waving as the elevator doors closed.

“Jeeze, this Kise guy must be balling if he’s living on the fucking top floor,” he grumbled to himself as the elevator slowly went up another five floors.

The elevator stopped at floor 10, where Daiki stepped out into the hallway to search for apartment 10E. _It was at the fucking far end of the hall from the elevators._ Daiki groaned as he thought of having to drag the cleaning supplies with him every other day until his cleaning partner’s turn. It was going to be awful.

Daiki walked up to the door of 10E, and he knocked on the door, waiting for this dweeb that Satsuki was so excited about. What’s up with her anyway? She usually never talked about celebrities or models unless she was chastising Daiki on his collection of Mai-chan’s magazines. He couldn’t help it, though. He was a working student, and he hardly had any time for a girlfriend. Mai-chan was pretty much his ideal kind of woman. Anyway, models had to be as beautiful and busty as Mai-chan, not flat and skinny and a man and—

Jeez, why was this guy taking so long to open the goddamn door?!

Daiki tried knocking again, only to hear silence on the other side of the door. _The fuck?_

Clients had to meet with the cleaner on the first day of cleaning; it was part of the guidelines. So why the _hell_ was this client not in his own home waiting for the cleaner?! Daiki had better not have traveled halfway across town to this apartment just to get turned away. Oh no, he would so not let that happen. He had to pay for his own travel expenses—he wasn’t going to let this be a waste. He was going to wait till Kise came home so that he could do his damn job and get the hell outta there. Daiki sat down and waited, and waited…

* * *

 

…and waited, and waited for three fucking hours. _THREE. FUCKING. HOURS._ Even Daiki was surprised at himself for having the patience to idly sit around and occasionally get stared at by passersby. He hadn’t even eaten yet, and he was absolutely starving. As his stomach gurgled, he tossed his hands up in the air, calling it quits. Whatever. He’d have to come back in two days to see what the fuck was up with his client.

Daiki grabbed his cleaning equipment and dragged himself to the elevator area (at the other fucking end of the hall, remember), and he tried to do so with as little energy as possible. He didn’t want to pass out as soon as he got on the train heading home. He pressed the button going down, and as one of the elevators began rising up, Daiki checked his cell phone for the time.

_9:00 PM_

Kise was supposed to be in his apartment, and they were supposed to meet to talk about the times the model would be out, and the times the cleaner would be in. But no, the model wasn’t even in his own apartment! The nerve.

The elevator door opened, and before Daiki could even think about stepping in, a streak of light (or blonde hair, close enough) dashed past him and down the hall. Confused for a second and with his hand in the elevator doorway to keep it from closing on him, Daiki leaned his head back to try to spot who just ran past him. From what little he could observe from the split second of eye contact with the blonde person, they had a pretty face. _Could it have been…? Nah, couldn’t be._ Daiki shrugged it off and finally stepped into the elevator whilst texting Satsuki to order some pizza for the night.

The next day, Daiki was headed to school, and he was tired. Like, really tired. He may not look like the type of guy, but he actually took school really seriously, and although he only got average grades, that didn’t mean he would stop studying. After the uneventful three hours of waiting for his stupid client, he traveled home to a whining Satsuki about how she was trying to do homework with her boyfriend when he texted her. They ended up eating pizza together, and she stayed behind to help him cram for the exam that he totally forgot about. Daiki ended up having to pull an all-nighter, and it was just plain awful.

As soon as he wrote his name on his exam, Daiki’s mind blanked out. He might as well have ripped the exam up and tossed it at his professor. This was only a general education course, and it would be a huge pain in the ass to fail it. _Thanks a lot, Kise,_ he thought to himself as he attempted to fill out the paper.

After the dreadful hour of nerves and sweat, Daiki attempted to dash out, only to bump into a smaller figure. Goodness graci—

“Ah, Aomine? How.. how was the exam? I think it was pretty hard. Don’t you?” Sakurai’s frail figure was shaking; he probably also pulled an all-nighter, and Daiki couldn’t help but feel bad for the dude.

“Eh, it was alright,” Aomine shrugged. He was trying to play it cool, hoping to avoid more conversation and not being late for his next class. “Sorry, gotta go.”

“Ah, s-sorry! See you Thurs..” Sakurai couldn’t even finish his parting sentence as Aomine disappeared.

After classes were done for the day, Daiki dragged himself to work. He wasn’t sure what to tell his manager after what happened the night before. He never had a rain check done on him, and he was embarrassed to have to tell Wakamatsu about it. He walked into the office and plopped down on a chair, his head leaning against the desk.

Jeez, this one flop in his work was screwing him up. How does that just happen?

Wakamatsu walked in, setting papers on his head. “Heard your client was home.” He snickered, and Daiki rolled his eyes, grabbing the papers to look at them.

“What’s this stuff?”

“An apology letter from Kise Ryouta himself. Looks like he felt really bad for leaving you to wait like that.”

“Wait, so you knew about this already?”

“Miss Momoi isn’t the secretary for no reason.”

Feeling betrayed, Daiki scoffed and looked through the couple sheets of paper. Paragraph after paragraph of apologies and reasons for not showing up bled through the pages, and Daiki just didn’t want to read them. So he chucked them into the recycle bin, not like he really cared for the model’s apologies anyway. It was just his job after all, so why get personal?

“Anyway,” Wakamatsu interrupted his thoughts. “He called earlier requesting that you go and discuss schedules and start cleaning tonight.”

“What the hell?” Daiki shook his head. “I have clients today.”

“It’s alright, Imayoshi’s got you covered today.”

“It’s fucking expensive trying to get all the way over there. I’m broke.”

“It’s alright. I’ll give you some money to pay for your train ride.”

Wakamatsu patted Daiki’s back so reassuringly, it almost felt fake to Daiki.

“Why do you want me to take this job so much?”

“He personally requested you, and he offered our service a whole load of money. It would be good for us to actually have a real office rather than this toolshed.”

Daiki winced a little, looking at his surroundings, at the holes in the wall from nails used to hold tools and the cobwebs forming by the day. Wakamatsu was ri—Then he had a double take.

“W-wait… How does he know me? I don’t even know how he looks like!”

Wakamatsu shrugged, not really caring, as he tossed Daiki some money. “I dunno. Just get on your way to work.”

* * *

 

During the whole hour ride across town, Daiki wracked at his brain in order to _try_ to remember who this dude was. He just couldn’t remember running into anyone so important who would stick in his memory. Just.. how? Why him out of all people? Why did he even decide to take this job? He could’ve just worked at some convenient store.

Hell, he could’ve just taken that basketball scholarship offered to him for college. He was incredibly talented at basketball; they called him a miracle in high school, and he had lost his passion for the sport when he found that no one could really defeat him. He was just sick of the cheering and the paparazzi and the constant expectations and appearances he was forced to go through. He was sick of it. Instead, he became a college student with an undeclared major and a lame part time job, and although he looked like a loser, he was actually starting to do his best. He just wanted a simple life. But this simplicity was shattered as soon as he got messed up by this… this KISE RYOUTA.

As Daiki made it to the room, he knocked the door. But there was no answer. He tried again. No answer.

“No fucking way.”

Daiki was losing his patience with this kid. Who does this asshole think he is? Calling him to come to work but not even being at home. Was he having a good laugh at a bar or something? Was he enjoying playing this game with him? Shit, Daiki was done with this.

As he turned to leave, he noticed the doorknob turn and the door click. The door slowly opened, and Daiki was absolutely mortified to see the body of a man fall face-flat onto the ground, his disheveled blonde hair covering his face. He looked… dead. Alarms rang through his head as Daiki grabbed the man’s arms to see if he was okay.

He heard a low rumble while the man stirred a little. Wide, golden eyes peered up at Daiki, and Daiki could swear he could feel his heart skip a beat.

“Hi…,” he murmured weakly. “I’m Kise Ryouta.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for lack of plot development and this chapter's pretty much just Aomine thinking and grumbling to himself lmao
> 
> Hi, hello! This is my first post on ao3, as well as my first time writing a multi-chapter fic!  
> I'm not great at writing, and I am SO uncreative.. But lack of my aokise headcanons in my life makes me sad.  
> I'm not sure if anyone else came up with the this headcanon of housecleaner!Aomine but it just tickles my heart lolol
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know if there are any spelling/grammar mistakes as well as ideas on how to go on from here, because I have no clue how to go on from here.. //weeps
> 
> Thank you for even reading this holy cow <3 UNtil next time!


	2. Kise Ryouta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryouta had this thing where he’d get upset over using money to use people. He never liked doing so, but sometimes it just had to be that way. He’s dated a couple girls before who only liked him for his face and more so the money. It was heartbreaking every time, and Ryouta refused to date anyone ever since. He had trust issues as well as abandonment issues. Maybe that’s why it was so hard for him to tell anyone about his problems. And now look at him: a beautiful model of perfection on the outside, but really just a nerd on the inside.  
> *****  
> plz see end notes for more info hhaahaha. //wheezes

Ryouta never liked to be a bother to anyone. It was just… he couldn’t help himself. He was a model, and almost everyone who knew him knew that. Working part time as a model and going to college part time was a huge drain on him, seeing as he couldn’t eat the things he wanted, and he couldn’t do the things he used to enjoy. There were times when Ryouta would consider quitting his job, but he was so weak to his fans and those who cared about him. If only Ryouta wasn’t so lenient to people, maybe he’d actually have a say in what he’d like to include in his diet, or where he’d actually like to have his next photoshoot. He couldn’t help it; even when others decided on things he absolutely didn’t want, he’d paste his practiced smile on his face and easily go along with it. That’s just how he was, even when he was younger. His sisters would constantly put him in girls’ clothing, and he’d pretend to be fine with that. His mother would insist that fried fish was his favorite food, and he’d go along with that idea even though he was absolutely disgusted with the way she cooked it.

That “being-okay-with-literally-everything-people-want” thing was now starting to burden him, and he lost weight due to the anxiety of pleasing everyone. _When was he going to get it right?_ Not only that, recently there’d been reports that someone may be stalking Ryouta, and he was absolutely terrified. What’s worse: his apartment was a total wreck right now, and he had no time in his schedule to clean it. That was why he had to hire a cleaner, and he just didn’t know where to start.

Luckily, with his brilliant (kinda) memory, he had remembered a simple name from quite a while ago.

_“Aomine Daiki. From Touou Cleaning Service.”_

He even remembered the voice the guy spoke in. It was almost like fate—the day he was saved by that man from a speeding car.

He was simply strolling around during his half-hour break from his modeling job. The sign changed from the red hand to the green walking figure, so Ryouta proceeded to cross the street. A speeding car with hopes to beat that red light didn’t have time to stop, and the driver honked loudly, Ryouta like a deer caught in headlights as a tanned arm reach over to wrap around his waist and drag him back to the sidewalk. Ryouta was breathless, tears stinging his eyes, his entire body shaking. He turned around to see the man that had saved him—he was walking away as if he hadn’t just saved Ryouta’s life. At that point, people were crowding around to see if the famous model Kise Ryouta was okay, and with his model smile, he escaped to grab hold of the jacket of his lifesaver.

“What’s your name? Who are you?”

Ryouta wanted to ask more, to reward him with money or lunch or something, but the simple words the tanned man snapped at him were enough to stun him. That gave the man a chance to yank his arm and make an escape, and Ryouta was incredibly disappointed that he let him go because that man—he was… _handsome._

So naturally, Ryouta spent weeks searching up Touou Cleaning Service (it was such a small service that Ryouta found it on the tenth page of his online search engine—they didn’t even have an address!), and immediately called them to personally request Aomine Daiki as the designated cleaner. Mission accomplished, right?

Wrong. As soon as he set up a date to meet with the cleaner, Ryouta was bombarded with photoshoots and commercial shoots and many other kinds of shoots (no nude ones though, thank god).

As soon as his last shoot ended, it was already a half hour till nine. _Holy cow._ Ryouta dashed from the train station to his apartment building, although he’d usually take a cab because it’s about a twenty minute run from the station but who cares _because he was supposed to meet his cleaner like three hours ago, holy cow holy cow holy cow holy cow holy shi—_ Ryouta heard a click, maybe the shutter sound of a camera? He stopped, panting a little and red in the face, and he tried looking around for the source of the sound.

_Could that be the stalker? How do they know I live in this area? No one knows except my manager and my family and my close friends! Oh god, am I going to get kidnapped? Will I get sold or killed off or what?_

With these terrifying thoughts running a mile in his mind, Ryouta started running the last mile to his apartment, accelerating every two minutes and hoping to throw his stalker off. Luckily, he was still fit from the training for his high school basketball club. Still, Ryouta was scared and vulnerable. He hadn’t told anyone, not even his manager, about his situation. He didn’t want to bother anyone considering that he wasn’t sure it was even a stalker at all.

Fleeing to his building, he sprinted into the elevator and smashed his floor number ten times in an attempt to get the door to close faster. His heart was racing, and he was sweating heavily, and it definitely didn’t help that all he got to eat that day was a tiny salad. His knees started shaking, but as soon as the elevator door opened to his designated floor, he darted out in a hurry, merely missing a man who was on his way in. Ryouta wanted to stop and apologize, but the adrenaline of trying to get away from the stalker was still in his veins, so he ran straight to his room, locking his door, trying to avoid all that stuff of his all over the ground, and stuffing himself into the closet. He sat down in the dark and breathed heavily as the adrenaline died down and he was able to calm himself. Slowly crawling out of the closet and into his bed after ten minutes, he pulled out his cell phone.

_9:10 PM_

“Heh. Of course, he’d be gone by now,” sighed Ryouta to himself. “Who’d want to be burdened by me?”

_No one would, that’s who._

Ryouta put his phone down and curled into a ball on his bed. He was too tired to order any takeout, and he was an awful cook. He set his kitchen on fire once, and everyone in the whole building had to evacuate. It was terrible.  Ryouta closed his eyes, and his body practically shut down.  

 

* * *

 

 

Ryouta jerked awake and rubbed his eyes. He just had a terrifying dream that had to do with worms, and let’s just leave it at that. He pulled out his phone to check the time and his eyes widened.

_2:46 AM_

He didn’t mean to suddenly knock out like that; he wanted to call the cleaning service and apologize for his rudeness of not being home! Ryouta scrambled off his bed and pulled out a couple pieces of paper (from under all that rubble) and a pen to write an apology letter.

_Dear Touou Cleaning Service,_

_I humbly apologize for not being at home during the meeting time. If you would be so kind to accept this letter of apology, I would like to explain to you the reasons why I was not able to make it:_

_1.)….._

Ryouta wrote and wrote all throughout the night, his many reasons of not being able to be at home during the required time of the meeting stretched through at least four pages. Ryouta just couldn’t say sorry enough. It was one of the words at the top of his “most used words bank”. He ended his letter with:

_Again, I am so sorry that I was not available during that time. Please forgive me._

_Sincerely,_

_Kise Ryouta_

It was already seven in the morning when Ryouta finished. He’d dozed off a couple times, but was able to pull through. Satisfied, but with bags under his eyes, Ryouta took a quick shower before putting on his most modest outfit: a regular black t-shirt and a pair of not-too-tight jeans that he saved for his days off, as well as a pair of huge sunglasses to hide half his face. Thank goodness he had the day off. Hopefully he could reschedule for today or something? He felt ashamed though; he didn’t really want to call the service after a no-call-no-show the night before. But his next day off was in the next couple of weeks and his apartment was beginning to reek of month-old Chinese leftovers. Ryouta sighed and strolled out the door.

Upon reaching the Touou Cleaning Service office which was actually just a shed behind some old company, kinda weird, Ryouta slipped the letter of apology in the mailbox, hoping no one was at work at nine in the morning. He’d taken the whole hour train ride here, and he had almost fallen over because he didn’t get any sleep the night before. He started tip-toeing away before a rough and loud voice startled him.

“May I help you, sir?”

Ryouta stood still for a moment before making the quick decision to dash off, leaving the other person behind confused and staring at the mailbox. Ryouta felt ashamed for running away so suspiciously, but the shame weighed more heavily over the fact that he wasn’t there the night before. That was why he ran, mentally slapping himself in the process. He coughed into his arm.

 

* * *

 

 

That afternoon, after a bento box lunch from the convenience store—the food was overdue, and Ryouta vomited it all out—Ryouta anxiously sat on his clothing-covered couch, phone in hand and deciding whether to call a reschedule or not. Finally hitting send, the same rough voice from that morning answered promptly on the second ring.

“Touou Cleaning Service. Wakamatsu speaking.”

Ryouta shook as he tried to find the right words to say.

“Err.. ah.. uhm.. Hello.. Th-this i..s..”

“Sorry, what? Could you speak louder please?”

“Ah, yes,” Ryouta replied, with more confidence. “This is Kise Ryouta speaking. I was not available yesterday evening for the meeting with one of your cleaners, Aomine Daiki?”

The name rolled off his tongue so easily; he’d spent countless nights repeated that name over and over, trying not to forget it so that he could repay his debt.

“Oh yes, my secretary informed me that that is so. Would you like to reschedule your meeting?”

Ryouta sighed inwardly. Thank goodness this Waka-what’s-his-face guy was really nice.

“Yes, please. Today, if possible.”

The choked sound coming from the other side of the phone made it seem like the guy couldn’t believe how Ryouta thought everyone had all the time set aside for only him.

“Sorry sir, but Aomine will not be available today. He has other clients that he must attend to. May I suggest Imayoshi instead?”

“No, no thank you,” Ryouta firmly, but politely, rejected. “I only request Aomine Daiki, and it must be today. It’s the only day I have off, and the next day I have off is in a few weeks. It must be today.”

“I’m sorry, but with the clients he has today, he will not be able to make—“

“How about eight-hundred per visit?”

“ _What.”_

Ryouta could practically feel the eyes pop out of this guy’s head on the other side of the phone. He chuckled as he twirled his finger around a strand of his golden hair.

“Yes, that’s about twice the price I offered from last time, correct? I hope that will change your mind, Mr… Wakayoshi.”

“It’s Wakamatsu. And… yes, I’ll have to accept,” Wakamatsu chuckled as well. “We’ve been low on funds, and this would be a great help to us. Thank you so much for your patronage, even though we haven’t even shown you our services yet.”

“Oh, no. It’s absolutely no problem at all. Just a small apology and a big thanks on my behalf. Thank you, I hope to see Aomine soon.”

Ryouta smiled into the phone before he hung up, but started frowning right after.

 _Damn,_ he thought to himself. _I used money to get things my way again…_

Ryouta had this thing where he’d get upset over using money to use people. He never liked doing so, but sometimes it just had to be that way. He’s dated a couple girls before who only liked him for his face and more so the money. It was heartbreaking every time, and Ryouta refused to date anyone ever since. He had trust issues as well as abandonment issues. Maybe that’s why it was so hard for him to tell anyone about his problems. And now look at him: a beautiful model of perfection on the outside, but really just a nerd on the inside.

There was so much the world didn’t know about him: that his favorite food was onion gratin soup, that he enjoyed karaoking, that he spends hours in the morning perfecting his look so that others could appreciate it, that he was scared of worms, that he was actually really insecure about himself. He just wanted to be himself, but no one out in the world would look at the real him. He felt like a fake. He just wants someone that will see him for who he is. That’s all.

Ryouta started coughing into his arm again, sniffling at the snot coming out of his nose and shaking from the layer of sweat from his skin.

 

* * *

 

 

Ryouta spent the rest of his free time attempting to tidy up a little, but whatever he tried to clean up just ended up a mess again. There was a point where he got so frustrated, he threw a pillow so hard it burst open when it hit the wall, littering the floor with feathers. Soon, he started feeling dizzy, and he had to sit down for a bit.

“Just my luck,” he mumbled to himself grimly. “I might just be dead by the time Aominecchi gets here…”

There was a knock at the door; it must’ve been Aomine Daiki! Ryouta struggled to stand up, the little energy he had disappeared but a moment ago, and he flopped back onto his couch. He realized he was sweating a lot, and shook his head.

_Must be running a fever. ‘on’t have time for this._

His ears perked at the second knock he heard, and he mustered up all his strength to get up and drag his way to the door. He got there just in time to hear a ‘No fucking way’ coming from the other side of the door. It sounded like the cleaner was done with Ryouta’s shit and about to leave.

“N..o, wait.”

Ryouta weakly twisted the doorknob, and the door opened to let him fall face-first into the ground. He almost blacked out right then, but no, he wouldn’t let himself. Aomine Daiki was by his side right then, with shocked, dark blue eyes boring right into his own amber colored ones. Ryouta could almost feel his heart leaping out of his chest... (or maybe it was just the fact that his fever was making his heart work harder, but still).

Finally. After weeks of searching for him, he’s found him. And this man was holding on to him, asking him if he was alright. The man who’d saved his life. This was great. This was awesome. This is amazing. This is—

“Hi…,” Ryouta murmured weakly. “I’m Kise Ryouta.”

Then he blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omfg, another chapter w/ lack of development I'm so sorry forgive me  
> except rather than aomine grumbling to himself, it's kise being sad to himself  
> but you'll see why he's so sad later on lmao
> 
> I PROMISE, there will be much more plot development in the next chapter. more action, i swear. and they'll actually interact with each other! yay!
> 
> plus the semester is over, so I can actually update more frequently. :)  
> thanks for reading! the couple of comments from the previous chapter made me happy, so comments and stuff are appreiciated! thank you so much! until next time! <3


	3. Prank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “W-wait!”
> 
> Aomine turned, an eyebrow raised as he glared at the blonde.
> 
> “Th..ank you… Mr. Aomine.”
> 
> “Cut it out with the “Mr.” shit,” Aomine grumbled. “It’s fucking annoying.”
> 
> “Oh, then…” Ryouta bit his lip in thought before he moved on. “Thank you, Aomine…cchi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i decided to keep this fic as angst-less as possible due to all the angst the aoki tag has   
> ((not that angst is bad, but this is fluff for those who might need it lmao))

Since when did nursing become a part of the job description for house cleaning? Daiki had no clue.

As he quickly strolled through the convenient store, searching for the right cold medicine and shopping for some food because that idiot model had absolutely nothing in his fridge, Daiki thought of all the complaints he was going to toss at Wakamatsu later. Paying for his items and growling a thanks at a flustered cashier, he dashed out of the store to get to Kise.

Kise’s fever was extremely high, nothing like a normal fever, and it absolutely wrecked Daiki’s thought process that anyone could ruin themselves so badly that they would collapse just like that. Plus, his apartment was an absolute mess, a total disaster! Right after Daiki had half-carried-half-dragged Kise’s body into the apartment (how could a man be so light to carry, seriously), Daiki was disgusted by the half-eaten boxes of takeout and dirty laundry lying on the ground and—was that a ripped open pillow? What the _hell?_

Daiki grunted as he let himself into Kise’s apartment, one hand occupied with bags of medication and ingredients. He took a peek inside Kise’s bedroom and upon seeing the blonde still passed out, headed over to the kitchen. The apartment was pretty huge, almost three times as spacious as Daiki’s dinky 2DK apartment; it was definitely grand and beautiful and sturdy aside from the garbage. Daiki wasn’t jealous of Kise though—he preferred his simple, tiny home. There was less to clean so that he could just lie around when he wasn’t working or at school.

The tanned house cleaner proceeded to the kitchen area, which was unquestionably filthy. Piles and piles of rotten food lay all over the counter and stove—Daiki couldn’t even see any of the marble of the counter. Well…since he was here already, he might as well do his job. They could talk about scheduling and shit later on. He couldn’t cook anything for the sick blonde anyway, what with all this shit lying around like it was for décor.

Within the next half hour, the kitchen looked as if it was new, as contrasted with the rest of the apartment. It was a nightmare for Daiki, cleaning the inside of the fridge and finding half-a-year-expired yogurt, scrubbing vigorously at the grimy tiles full of gunk, sticking his hands into a sink full of used dishes. He almost cried when he found maggots clogging up the drain, which he fortunately disinfected before they could grow. Kise seemed like the kind of pretty boy who would cry at the sight of anything squirmy anyway. Daiki wiped his forehead with satisfaction as he regarded what he had just cleaned.

“Perfect,” he contentedly sighed as he pulled out a small pot he bought at the convenient store. “Rice porridge should be good for his sick ass.”

 

* * *

 

 

“W-wait! Mr. Aomine! Hold on, please! Let me just pay you back for saving my life!”

The shadowy figure of Aomine retreated as Ryouta tried running towards him. It seemed as though no matter how quick he ran, the distance between the two remained the same.

“I don’t deal with rich shitheads like you. You’re all the same.”

Aomine smirked and started dashing away. “You’re all the same.”

“No, no! I promise I’m not! I swear it on my life! I’m not like those people! Please, wait!”

Ryouta grunted as he tripped and hit the ground.

“Please…”

He reached out to grab at air. And then he opened his eyes.

_It was just a dream._

Cheeks reddening and eyes tearing up, Ryouta tried to control his breathing as he struggled to sit up. _How was he in his bed? Wasn’t he cleaning earlier?_

As Ryouta looked at his side, he noticed a damp towel that felt fresh. Did someone bring him here?

_Oh shit._

Ryouta scrambled out of his bed as he stumbled over to the door to check if his house cleaner was still there. Before he could reach the door, he crumbled into a heap as a comfortable smell wafted into his room. It smelled like authentic, homely cooking, not the kind that was warmed up by microwave. And it smelled absolutely delicious. Ryouta felt his mouth water, and brushed some drool away as the door opened, and lo and behold: Aomine Daiki in the flesh!

“M..Mr. Aomine,” Ryouta’s voice came out much more croaky than he expected, and he flushed as he tried to get up from his embarrassing position on the floor.

Aomine looked down at him in surprise, wearing one of his flowery aprons that Ryouta had worn for a cooking photoshoot, and holding a platter with rice porridge and medicine in one hand. He looked so handsome, so strong and kind and—

“What the hell are you doing on the ground? Coulda sworn I set you in the bed.”

Ryouta gaped as Aomine set the tray gently on one of his bedside tables and tossed the blonde onto the bed without a thought, poor Ryouta landing with a startled yelp.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Aomine. I—“

“Yeah, yeah.”

Aomine waved Ryouta’s words off dismissively as he stirred the rice porridge.

“Save the talking for later. You sound like you got shot in the throat. Now, take this medicine and eat your rice porridge like a good boy. And after that we can talk business. I’ll probably get started on your—“ Aomine visibly shivered. “—living room while you rest up for a bit. Then we can settle things, alright?”

Ryouta flushed at the aggressiveness of Aomine’s words, and he nodded, taking the pills that were handed to him. Aomine began to leave the room, and Ryouta called out to him.

“W-wait!”

Aomine turned, an eyebrow raised as he glared at the blonde.

“Th..ank you… Mr. Aomine.”

“Cut it out with the “Mr.” shit,” Aomine grumbled. “It’s fucking annoying.”

“Oh, then…” Ryouta bit his lip in thought before he moved on. “Thank you, Aomine…cchi.”

Aominecchi _tsk_ ed before he stomped the rest of the way out into the hall.

“You’re—you’re welcome.”

And he slammed the door, leaving Ryouta amused as he swallowed a spoonful of the best rice porridge he’s ever had in his entire life.

 

* * *

 

 

Daiki started up the vacuum, hoping that the loud roar would drown out his internal organs yelling and pleading for fresh air that didn’t smell like moldy clothes.

_Now what had happened back there, that was some embarrassing shit. Who just goes around looking all red and flushed up like that? Well, in that idiot’s defense, he was three-fourths on his way to death, but REALLY. WHO JUST NATURALLY LOOKS LIKE THAT?_

Daiki shook his head, bumping the vacuum against a beige-colored couch that was probably three times his salary.

_And really, what the hell was up with that “—cchi” suffix? Is he some kinda foreigner or alien or something? Is that why he’s so sick? Maybe he’s allergic to humans. Maybe he’s feigning sickness so he can kidnap me at my most vulnerable moment and suck my brains out. Holy shit. I should become some kinda hero in a cool alien movie or something. I would beat the living shit outta those aliens._

As Daiki realized where his train of thought was going, he snickered as he imagined Kise with blue skin and red eyes while holding a weird looking gun that spewed out beams of light. He’d probably still look hot even if he was ugly.

When Daiki finished vacuuming, he picked up the clothes that looked way too wrinkled and dirty to be Kise’s.

_He must have new clothes every week so that he doesn’t have to worry about laundry._

Daiki scoffed.

_Rich kids._

The house cleaner did the rest of his job, dusting, wiping, tossing trash out, doing whatever was needed to get the damn apartment back to the way it should be: livable. And he had a damn hard time, even if he was pretty experienced at his job. It was just that the whole place was so big, and once all the clothes and other junk were picked up from the floor, the apartment seemed even bigger than when he first walked in.

Daiki cleaned the last of the hallway, and he dragged himself back to the living room, plopping himself on the couch and patting himself on the back.

“Well done, me. Here’s to a good pay and a hellish client.”

With that he shut his eyes for a mere minute—he was exhausted, and figured he could use some rest, since his client was resting himself.

_I mean… I can’t really leave until he wakes up and we start talking anyway… Might as well rest for a bit._

* * *

 

 

Ryouta sat up abruptly. Ah, he must’ve fallen asleep again. He felt much better now—the pain in his head was gone, and he didn’t feel as warm as he did before. He glanced at the clock at his side.

_9:56 PM_

“Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit—“

Ryouta threw his blankets off himself (did Aominecchi perhaps tuck him in?) and dashed into the living room.

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry Aominecchi! I—“

He stopped dead in his tracks as a sleeping Aominecchi rested on the sofa, snoring lightly and—holy cow. He was just—just… ADORABLE. How can anyone so vicious and rude and loud a couple hours ago be sleeping like an angel now?

The model scrunched his eyebrows and slowly tiptoed closer to the house cleaner, about to wake him up so they could discuss their schedules and plans. Then, a lightbulb lit up his mind and he snickered as he went to search for his ripped pillow, ready to wake up Aominecchi in a different way.

When he found said pillow, he grabbed a couple of feathers that were still inside. Grabbing his cellphone from his nightstand, he propped it up against the TV, after taking a couple pictures of Aominecchi alone, and then a couple selfies for good measure. He hit record and silently, cautiously made his way over to Aominecchi.

He was sleeping so peacefully, Ryouta almost felt bad for what he was about to do.

First, he experimented by taking the feathers and tickling the house cleaner’s neck. Amidst his snoring, Aominecchi reached up to scratch where Ryouta tickled. Ryouta covered his mouth with his fist, stifling his own snickering, and he tickled Aominecchi’s shoulder blade, causing Aominecchi to rub his shoulders.

It was a little game of tickle and scratch, tickle and scratch, all over the tanned neck and even on the chin. Then, Ryouta decided to take it a step further, moving the tickling up to Aominecchi’s face. The reactions coming from him were absolutely priceless, and Ryouta couldn’t wait to watch what he was recording at the moment. He just couldn’t suppress quiet giggles every time Aominecchi mumbled “stop” or made a face like an old man’s whenever he unconsciously attempted to swat at whatever was irritating his skin.

It was apparently the last straw when Ryouta tickled right under his nostril, when Aominecchi sat up immediately with a loud “Buwwwahh??!”

“OH MY GOD.”

Ryouta was practically rolling on the ground as Aominecchi glared down at him, confused and still half asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

“Whuaa.. wha de hell?”

Confused, Daiki stared down at the feathers in the culprit’s hand. And he was LAUGHING (it was a beautiful laugh, kinda like a cool breeze on a terribly hot day, but _anyway_ ).

“YOU,” Daiki said menacingly, through grit teeth. “I can’t… what the _actual fuck_ are you trying to pull?!”

Ryouta was still laughing, grabbing at his sides and trying to stop, but even Daiki could tell that this situation was too hard for him to handle.

“I’m leaving.”

Daiki got up to leave, annoyed that this guy was so childish. He was halfway out the door when he felt his shirt getting pulled in the other direction.

“No wait,” Pretty boy was right behind him, trying to prevent him from leaving. “I’m—I’m sorry. It’s just that I… I haven’t laughed this hard in so long. I couldn’t help it. I’m really, really sorry, Aominecchi. Please come back in. I’ll brew you some tea, and we can discuss what we need to discuss.”

Daiki rolled his eyes, and closed the door shut behind him.

“Fine. Let’s make it quick.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omfg I'm so sorry everyone. I'm a failure ;;A;; It's just that I've been lacking creativity, as well as the motivation to keep writing lmao.
> 
> but thank you to the few comments, and all the kudos I received! I love comments, so please comment if you can! 
> 
> I was also busy, with Colossalcon and all that shizz.
> 
> Anyway, YES. THEY FINALLY INTERACTED LOL. Yaya! But they didn't really do anything. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! comment, kudos, follow if ya want. I'm not all that interesting so don't worry about doing so lol.
> 
> my tumblr is happykise.tumblr.com 
> 
> i hope to update soon! thank you so much for reading! //cries


	4. So Lost in Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which the two dorks are separately dorky for the chapter
> 
> unbetad GOOD LUCK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry please enjoy this lame chapter

Ryouta hadn’t laughed this hard in so long. Who would’ve thought the same guy who saved his life would also make him giggle like a little girl? Jeez, he doesn’t even know the guy, but Aomine probably thought he was a weirdo or something.

Letting the tea brew, Ryouta walked to the living room to find a disgruntled Aomine shuffling through his papers.

“Here.” A couple sheets were shoved at Ryouta. “Sign here and here.”

The model glanced at the papers, skimming and making sure he wasn’t signing his life away.

“Okay. Here you go.”

Ryouta took a look at Aomine, and found the tanned man staring back at him. He could feel himself getting red in the face, and he quickly avoided the eye contact.

Aomine spoke first as he gathered the contract sheets. His rich, deep voiced resonated throughout the mostly empty room aside from the brewing sounds of the tea maker from the kitchen.

“What days and times would you like me to come in?”

Ryouta grinned, trying to ease the tension he could feel coming from the other man.

“Surprise me!”

“This isn’t a joke, you know.”

Ryouta was startled. He didn’t at all expect Aomine to be such a serious and easily irritated man. He didn’t expect that at all.

Taken a back, but keeping his model smile, Ryouta attempting to sound more serious.

“Well—ahem—of course I know that. I just figured lightening the mood would make you feel better.”

Aomine deadpanned.

“You should’ve never pranked me while I was snoozing. Maybe I wouldn’t be so pissed off the way I am now.”

 _But it was funny,_ Ryouta thought to himself.

“Sorry about that…” Ryouta rubbed the back of his neck, an awful habit for whenever he was nervous. “Anyw—“

“You look kind of familiar.”

Ryouta perked up a little. Maybe Aomine actually remembered who he was!

“Yes, I’m the guy you sa—“

“Aw, shit, I forgot. You’re the famous model that everyone’s in love with. Ugh.”

The frown on Ryouta’s face was so evident, even his fangirls would be scared. What was wrong with this guy?!

“Aominecchi—“

“Why the hell do you keep calling me that? Is that some kinda pet name or something? If so, I don’t want it.”

Ryouta grit his teeth. Okay, this man was officially getting on his nerves. Who does this Aomine guy think he is? He had no right to treat Ryouta this disrespectfully, even if Ryouta had given him a bit of a hard time. Goodness, he was getting _paid_ to be here, and yet he was sitting here complaining about every little thing every time Ryouta tried to speak.

“First of all,” His voice cracked at first; his anger got the best of him. “Quit fucking interrupting me every time I speak. Second of all, who the hell do you think you are? You have no right to be disrespecting me and treating me like this if I’m paying you. Look, I know that I gave you a bit of a hard time. And I’m sorry, okay? But that doesn’t mean that you can act like I’m whoever the hell you want me to be. Just. No. My house is a mess. My hair is a mess. I’m a mess. Seriously.”

He could feel the tears forming in his eyes. He really didn’t mean to get this emotional—Ryouta absolutely hated having any problems with people in general, but this guy who Ryouta thought would remember him after saving his life… He turned out to be such an asshole, and Ryouta just couldn’t stand it.

The tanned man sat still, shock slowly forming on his well-defined face.

“I’m just gonna… go now.”

He quickly got up, knocking over some of his equipment. He grabbed everything, and walked out the door without turning back, slamming it just as the tea maker beeped to signal its finish. Ryouta sat there with hands covering his face.

_I swear, I just wanted to thank him and repay him… And like usual, my emotions got the best of me._

* * *

 

“What the hell,” Daiki mumbled to himself as he climbed into the train going home. “What the actual hell.”

Thinking back to the events beginning from a couple hours ago to now, Daiki still couldn’t comprehend what the hell just happened. He was already in a pretty foul mood upon entering the prettyboy’s home (what, with having to drag him in and all that). It wasn’t _his_ fault that the damn prince was all teary and stuff. Daiki shifted uncomfortably as he recalled the look on the blonde’s face when he was on the verge of crying.

“Shit,” Daiki growled. He had to admit, the model did have a very pretty face… And he kinda enjoyed that teary face. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

Getting off at his stop, he walked home (trying to save money, so no taxi) to find an upset Satsuki waiting for him at his apartment door. She was clearly pissed off, probably had an argument with her boyfriend, as she leaned against the doorframe typing angrily into her smartphone. Her pink eyes shone with focus and rage, and boy, was Daiki in for a ride. Just as Satsuki placed her phone into her pocket, Daiki received a text.

**_Message From: Momoi Satsuki_ **

**_Subject: HNJKHWDWOHDWOEHOIWEHDIOH_ **

**_Where the hell are you?! I’m so pissed. I just had a fight with Teppei and I’m so pissed holy cow. I almost strangled him—I really wanted to. Hurry the hell up it’s getting cold I’m about to break in where tf are you wtffffffffffffffffffffffff._ **

Daiki smirked at the text. Must’ve been a big fight considering Satsuki was a ridiculous grammar nazi, making sure to always type with precision—no misspellings, acronyms, perfect punctuations.

“Hey,” he said, as he got out his keys and opened his door. Satsuki threw him a glare that almost scared him. Thank goodness he wasn’t the one she was mad at.

“Where have you been, you jerk?!”

He shrugged, “Work, duh. First day at the pretty boy’s house. And wow, do I regret taking the job. You’ll never guess what happened.”

“Forget what happened at work. I need to vent. Like. Right now.”

Daiki sighed. Okay, fine. He walked over to his dinky couch and sat down, motioning for the distressed Satsuki to sit down.

“Okay, what happened?”

Satsuki pouted, “Don’t wanna talk about it.”

Daiki rolled his eyes, grabbing the remote and switching his television on.

“What the hell, Satsuki? You come here whining and then you sit here saying you don’t wanna talk about it.” He leaned back onto the couch, hitting random buttons to find anything interesting going on. “If anything, I should be the one complaining. What would your boyfriend think of you coming over to another guy’s house?”

Satsuki shook her head, “Dai-chan, you know he trusts you.”

“You don’t get it, Satsuki. Jeez, you’ll never understand guys.”

Now it was Satsuki’s turn to roll her eyes, her index finger twirling her pink hair.

“Whatever, Dai-chan! Whatever you say!” She grumbled under her breath, “This is why you can’t date anyone.”

All of a sudden, a full head of blonde hair appeared in Daiki’s mind. Err—wait, no; it appeared on the TV. Fucking Kise Ryouta was on TV, starring in a commercial. Daiki couldn’t help but stare as the ad for a new line of clothing featured Kise walking along the shore, his golden hair whipping in the wind, his slender figure slightly and artfully bent as he picked up a seashell. To top it off, he turned around to face the camera and offered a seductive smile. Even Daiki could feel the redness grow on his cheeks.

_What the hell is this guy? Is he really this same guy who almost died in his own home, drowning in dirty laundry and grimy floors?_

Daiki was so lost in thought, he couldn’t even feel Satsuki’s light slaps until the fourth one, which fucking hurt. He grabbed onto her wrist.

“Satsuki, what the hell?!”

“Don’t you ‘what the hell’ me, you bastard! I called your name like five times! Jeez, you were completely fixated on Mr. Kise here! Did he do something to you when you went over? Or is it…” She raised her eyebrows. “Don’t tell me you—“

“No, don’t even think about it.”

“You li—“

“STOP!” Daiki’s voice almost cracked.

“YOU LIKE HIM!” She screeched, holding on to a pillow as she cackled. “No way! My Dai-chan! Having a crush on a celebrity! Good stuff, Dai-chan. GOOD. STUFF.”

Daiki growled as he grabbed the pillow his friend was holding and stuffed it in her face.

“I. Do. Not. Have. A. Crush. On. Him.” With every word, he lightly bopped her in the face with the pillow. “Holy shit, I just met him today, okay? And he was just so,” he shuddered at the thought. “…shiny. Or some unicorn shit like that. Kinda like a rare species? I dunno, but if anything, I despise him and his kind. Fake and flashy.”

Satsuki was wheezing, tired from the laughing and the bopping.

“Okay, Dai-chan, okay. I was just kidding anyway. He’s not even your type anyway. I KNOW your type. I am your dearest childhood friend after all. Anyway,” Satsuki got up and stepped towards the door. “I’m outta here. I feel a lot better now. I guess I can go make up with Teppei.”

As she headed out, she stopped and turned around.

“Thanks, Dai-chan.”

Daiki mumbled a “you’re welcome,” and Satsuki left with a smile.

_Finally, some peace and quiet. What’s up with all these loud people in my life?_

Daiki laid back onto his couch and closed his eyes before drifting off to a peaceful sleep.

 

* * *

 

“Mr. Kise! Are you okay? Please, if you’re sick or tired, let me know. You’re not yourself today, Mr. Kise.”

Ryouta sighed as his manager (actually, he was some guy Kasamatsu, his real manager, assigned to fill in since he was going on vacation) bustled around him, poking him to see if he was okay. Of course he wasn’t fucking okay. A couple nights before, he’d just screwed up the one chance he had of chasing this guy down. Ryouta thought he’d finally found someone who’d understand his true feelings.

_But, well, people just aren’t how they appear to be, I guess. What the heck though? It’s like I have a mancrush on him or something???????_

Ryouta was so lost in thought, he didn’t notice how he was dragged on set by his manager, staring into space as the camera clicked.

_What’s wrong with me? Has this guy really impacted me this much? Eh, I guess I can let it go now. Just let the man do his job and give him money. No big deal. It’s not like he wants to deal with me anyway._

There was a small but dreadful tugging in Ryouta’s chest, and he pouted, trying to clear away his thoughts. His pout lingered, and he was still staring into space when the photographer called for a fifteen minute break and outfit change.

“Mr. Kise! Hellooooo? Earth to Mr. Kise?!!”

Ryouta’s glassy eyes focused from space onto the warm, brown eyes of his “manager.”

_Err... what was his name again?_

“Yes, Mr. Hiyoshi. Yes, I’m here. Sorry, I was actually kinda spacing out throughout this whole shoot…”

“Oh no, not at all! By the way, it’s Kiyoshi, not Hiyoshi. Kiyoshi Teppei,” Kiyoshi Teppei, the fill-in manager replied. “I’m just glad to have this shoot over with soon anyway; I was hoping to get my girl a nice dinner. But all the four-star restaurants are full of reservations. It’s our second anniversary, and I wanted to treat her out. We even got into an argument about it.” He chuckled, clearly embarrassed that he, a completely normal man of average height and looks, just spilled out his issues with one of the most successfully trending models.

“Oh-ho?” Ryouta’s interest was piqued. “Second anniversary, you say?”

Mr. Kiyoshi nodded his confirmation.

“Well… Mr. Kiyoshi, I might be able to help you out. I’ll get you a reservation at a nice restaurant. A five-star restaurant,” Ryouta could almost see Mr. Kiyoshi’s unkempt eyebrows fly off his forehead, and he chuckled in his mind. “So, yes, let’s meet up some time tonight by the train station? 6 PM sound good to you?”

Mr. Kiyoshi’s eyes were wide, and he opened his mouth in awe before he shook his head and replied, “NO, I mean—yes, I mean… Thank you so much Mr. Kise!”

Ryouta’s golden eyes shone. “It’s no problem, Mr. Kiyoshi! And just call me Kise—I hope we can get along for the next two weeks!”

Mr. Kiyoshi nodded enthusiastically, before quickly gathering his belongings. “I’ll see you in a couple hours, Kise! Thanks so much, I owe you one!”

Ryouta smiled, a genuine smile that he almost forgot he possessed.

“Kiyoshicchi—you’re so welcome. See you later!” And with a wave, they both parted ways.

Ryouta walked down the steps thinking to himself.

_See? I don’t really need a lover or a BFF or anything. Just people are okay. Just people._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as I said, I am so sorry for this. my lack in updates and--- yeah.  
> school's been rough. the summer was rough. yep!  
> But I'm back! I hope to do more, and update more regularly!
> 
> Idk what to do with them at this point -- I'm having writer's block. some suggestions would be nice, folks! :O  
> See ya!


	5. Unexpected Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why is Daiki so unlucky? Why is Ryouta so unlucky?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some fun aokise interaction because I just read a super sad fic (http://archiveofourown.org/works/5005771)  
> Seriously go read it if you wanna cry /;;; It's fantastic and beautiful and makes me sad

“Oh, c’mon Dai-chan! Please, I need a ride!”

The annoying high-pitched whines of Satsuki were starting to really bug Daiki, especially since he had a long and difficult day at university. Two of his classes ran late so he had to dash to work only to find out he was too late and Imayoshi had to go clean in his place (Imayoshi texted him that Daiki owed him bigtime, so maybe that’s why he didn’t get yelled at so bad). To top off the obnoxious cake of the day, Daiki came home to find Satsuki at his doorstep. Again. Apparently, her car broke down—“it’s not my fault my car broke down the day I’m supposed to meet with my boyfriend for our second anniversary!!!”—and she was there to ask Daiki for a ride, all dressed up and ready to go as if he was going to agree to take her without any hesitation.

“No,” was his answer.

“Please, please, pleeeease! Today’s such an important day! And seriously, when have you done me any real, physical favors?”

_Oh, that was pretty true._

“Forget about it,” he replied lazily, scratching his stomach as he settled down on his couch to write his paper. “Just go celebrate tomorrow or something.”

“Dai-chan, I can’t! Teppei said we HAVE to meet up today, or else!”

“Well, call him to come pick you up then. I don’t wanna be your chauffer for the night. I have a shit ton of homework I have to do for…”

Then the waterworks came on. With a single drop of a tear followed by another, Satsuki’s eyes began to water, and Daiki was starting to regret making his childhood friend cry.

“Dai-chan, I wouldn’t be coming to you if I didn’t need help. It’s just… today wasn’t a good day, and I was hoping that after our date, it would make me go to sleep happy… And I—“

“Okay, okay, fine,” Daiki shook his head. “Sorry. I’ll take you. Just… stop crying okay?”

Instantly, Satsuki’s shaking stature ceased, and she nodded her head enthusiastically, giggling while she grabbed her purse.

“I knew you’d fall for that!”

Daiki groaned, also grabbing his keys that he never used (gas was damn expensive).

“I should punch you in the face some time.”

Satsuki stuck her tongue out, “You wouldn’t dare.”

And that was how Daiki got played to drive Satsuki to her date with her man.

* * *

Ryouta was running a little late; his hair just wasn’t working with him, and not that it mattered since he was going to cover it with his beanie anyway. Lately Ryouta couldn’t really go out to have nice dinners because people would notice him right away. It was sad, because Ryouta’s favorite little restaurants would end up overcrowded with fans when all he wanted to do was enjoy his meal and some peace. That was one of the many cons that were involved with the world of modelling.

“Shit,” Ryouta muttered to himself, grabbing his jacket and dashing out the door to catch the train.

Fortunately, he wasn’t late, making it to the meeting point with ten seconds to spare (till 6), and Kiyoshi was sitting on the bench. Looking at him, Ryouta could see that he put a lot of effort into his outfit—he had on a nice royal blue dress shirt under a classy brown jacket, and his slacks fit perfectly on his waist. This guy definitely knew how to dress up for an occasion. Ryouta sighed in his mind, a little envious that Kiyoshi could have the time to go out like this.

“Hey!” Kiyoshi waved enthusiastically. “I’m so glad you could make it! Thanks so much for this, really. I don’t know what I’d do with all this happening.”

Ryouta flashed a smile. “It’s not a problem Kiyoshicchi!”

Usually, if anyone earned Ryouta’s respect, he would add the suffix to their name, and they would react as if it was weird. But if Kiyoshi thought the nickname was weird, it certainly didn’t show on his face. Ryouta smiled inwardly as he guided the taller man into the restaurant.

The restaurant was quite gorgeous and large, and as the reviews say, service is top-notched as well as the food. Only people who were somebodies could really eat here, and Ryouta was glad he had connections at this restaurant. As the pair walked through the entrance into the grand hall, Kiyoshi’s eyes widened with just about every step.

“Wait… Kise… Is this… Is this that French restaurant that only celebrities eat at? I can’t afford this!”

“No worries, Kiyoshicchi. It’s on me!”

Kiyoshi shook his head, and replied, “No, this isn’t a good idea. It was nice of you to make such a kind gesture, but I don’t think I can accept you spending your money on me.”

Ryouta stood for a moment, confused. Usually, his “friends” would most definitely take his offer, ordering the most expensive thing on the menu whenever he told them it was on him. Yes, this guy was a keeper. The blonde-haired man couldn’t help but grin wholeheartedly as he pulled his arm over Kiyoshi’s broad shoulders.

“No, no. Please. I want to this. You’re the first guy who has ever rejected my offer! And I must say… I am quite impressed, my friend."

Kiyoshi chuckled, a little shy and earnest, and—wow. Ryouta couldn’t help but blush a little as the two walked over to the host in charge of seating.

_No, no, nonononono. This guy is taken. By a girl at that. Nopenopenopenopenoepnoepnoepnoepnoep---_

Ryouta’s mind was full of nopes as the host’s eyes widened at the sight of the two.

“Ah, yes, hello. Table for two please.”

“Yes, sir!” The host stood at attention, waiting for any more of Ryouta’s requests. “Will this be a private dinner for you two… sir?” His eyes quickly glanced over to Kiyoshi, and Ryouta felt he must’ve thought the two were going on a date or something.

“Ah, well, err, yes. This will be a private dinner, but it won’t be for the two of us. It will be my friend here, and his girlfriend. This is for their anniversary, so I ask that you please treat them well.”

Ryouta flashed his model smile, and the host looked like he was in bliss.

“Definitely, sir! Shall we wait for the other half of the party?”

A chipper, high-pitched voice was heard, “Right here! Hello!”

A girl, a bit on the short side with gorgeous pink hair, and beautiful, glistening pink eyes made her way over to Kiyoshi and Ryouta with another guy and—

Ryouta couldn’t believe it.

* * *

 

Daiki couldn’t believe it.

What the hell? What the hell was KISE of all people doing with Satsuki’s boyfriend? For a second, Daiki rubbed his eyes. Maybe he was hallucinating. But the slim figure of the model still stood there, and Daiki wondered why the world was so small. He frowned, as Satsuki dragged him over to the other pair, and he could see that a frown probably similar to his was settled on pretty boy’s supposedly gorgeous face.

Well, they did separate on awkward terms after all.

Kise was avoiding eye contact as Kiyoshi (the bastard) walked over and Satsuki basically glided into his arms.

“Satsuki! I’m so glad you could make it. I’m so sorry about earlier!”

“Oh, Teppei, it’s perfectly fine! I’m just glad we could be together tonight! You know how important this is to me—ah, hello!” She glanced over at Kise, eyes widening in recognition. “You’re… Kise Ryouta?”

Kise nodded in affirmation, his cheeks reddening in a way that makes him look just a teeny tiny bit cute. That’s right, he was a rising star, and to be recognized like that even in disguise? Wow. Daiki couldn’t help but feel impressed for the model, but ANYWAY.

“The one and only,” That damn pretty boy’s eyes were twinkling, and Daiki was honestly starting to get pissed off.

“Dai-chan, come say hi!”

Daiki hadn’t noticed, but he was standing a couple of feet away from the group, like a loner or something. Daiki rolled his eyes and shook his head in annoyance.

“Nah. If all the business is taken care of, then I’m heading home.”

Satsuki stomped right over and almost yanked at his ear; her mouth was in a pout that basically read “wow dai-chan you’re a hella big moron if you’re gonna miss this opportunity to chat with the boy you’ve been pining over for a day.”

 _I AM NOT PINING_ was the first thought that came to his mind. He shrugged and started walking his way out.

“Later, Satsuki, Kiyoshi.” He refused to say Kise’s name. He just knew that if he got himself involved with the guy, his life would not go well.

“Sheesh, Dai-chan! Get a life!”

He could hear Satsuki’s voice resonating off the gold painted walls and fuchsia colored silk curtains. He could also hear a distant, but excited voice explaining his miniscule role in the next episode of this one drama. His breath could be seen as he stepped out into the crisp evening air, and he leaned against the wall to think about what to cook for dinner. Just seconds later, a familiar head full of golden hair popped out as Kise struggled to squeeze through the not fully opened automatic doors. Kise noticed Daiki leaning against the wall, and Daiki looked away, hoping he was camouflaged enough against the wall that the model wouldn’t think he was there, but nope.

“Hey, Aomine.” His voice was quiet, and really tense. Goodness gracious, Daiki didn’t want to be there anymore.

“Hey,” Daiki grunted his response, hoping that the other would realize he didn’t feel like chatting.

“You heading out anywhere?”

“Nah. Going home.”

“Oh.”

A breeze trapped the two in a blanket of nothing but cold air, and Kise shivered, wrapping his arms tightly around his too-thin jacket. With fashion comes pain after all. No wonder this guy caught such a bad cold.

Daiki started walking to where his car was parked, and lo and behold, the train station happened to be that way. So the two began to walk, Daiki in the front and Kise an awkward three steps behind. As he starting getting closer to his car, he heard a constant sound behind him, kind of like a patting noise.

“Shit,” he heard Kise curse behind him.

When Daiki reached his car, he turned slightly to see the blonde patting himself down.

“What?” Daiki, you idiot, stop talking to him. He’s just trouble.

“Ah, I… I forgot my wallet at home. My jacket only had enough money for the train ride here.”

Kise looked nervous, and Daiki felt confused as to why he should be just because he didn’t have some money on him.

“Just walk home,” Daiki’s suggestion sounded kinda dumb, but eh, save the world little by little.

“Oh, uhm… okay.” Kise started walking, shuffling his feet a little, and shaking like crazy from the cold.

“Here, take some cash. You can pay me back when I come over to clean.”

Kise shook his head wildly, “No, no! That would defeat the purpose of me paying you to clean for me! It’s okay, really. I’ll see you around, Aomine.”

He quickly turned around to walk home, and Daiki sighed.

“How long does it take to walk home?”

Kise froze, and turned back, “Uhh… about half an hour.” He chuckled, and it sounded strained. What was wrong with this kid?

Daiki sighed again, and climbed into his car.

“Get in,” he invited, gesturing toward the passenger seat. “I’ll give you a ride.”

* * *

 

Ryouta was appalled as Aomine gestured toward the passenger seat of his car. Was Aomine Daiki, THE Aomine Daiki, actually offering him a ride?! Ryouta felt it was too good to be too, a rude and blunt lazy ass like this guy was actually being considerate. He almost felt like he should reject; what if this guy was gonna beat him up for all that Ryouta did to him?! He stood there to contemplate on his decision as another blast of wind blew at him. He shivered, and shuffled over to the passenger side of Aomine’s car.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, as he climbed in.

Aomine didn’t answer, and he started the car. The two sat in silence as Aomine waited for his car to heat up, and the tense quietness started eating at Ryouta.

“Err… so, about a couple nights ago,” Ryouta turned to look at Aomine staring at him, and he felt startled. “I-idiot! Keep your eyes on the road!”

Aomine smirked and Ryouta could feel the tips of his pale ears turn red, “I haven’t even started driving yet, princess.”

Ryouta glared, “It’s not ‘princess’ or ‘pretty boy.’ It’s Kise, you doofus.”

Aomine laughed, and Ryouta could almost swear he saw the hues of dark blue that came from the deep boom of his voice.

“Ha, doofus. Haven’t been called that before.”

The tanned man started driving, and Ryouta turned back to the window, facing away from him. It was silent again, and Ryouta had to clear his throat to start talking again without his voice breaking.

“Ahem, so… about a couple nights ago,” he could hear Aomine grunt in response. “Sorry about messing with you.”

There was a moment of quietness before Aomine replied, “Yeah. It was actually pretty funny. I was just in a really shitty mood—“

“—because I caused you trouble? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get sick—“

“—you didn’t let me finish. It’s just been a rough week is all. So it’s not you. No worries. Also, sorry about me. Shouldn’t have interrupt you every time you were trying to talk.”

Ryouta hummed as he drew a smiley face on the window using his finger.

“But don’t think that I want to be friends with you or shit like that… This is a professional job, and I shouldn’t be playing around with my clients.”

Ryouta smiled warmly to himself and leaned back in his seat, seeing his apartment coming up.

“Sure, sure. Thanks,” He paused. “Aominecchi.”

He heard a surprised “Wha—“coming from the other man as he hopped out of the car, gently slamming the car door and dashing into his apartment.

Aominecchi wasn’t so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for over 1,000 hits and over 100 kudos! It makes me happy that people actually read or enjoy the crap I post up haha!
> 
> See ya'll next chapter! I'm not sure what I want to do with these two, please leave some suggestions? :)


	6. Interesting Fellow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Aominecchi is pretty mean.”  
> “Who’s to say I’m not?”

                Lying facedown on his bed and swinging his legs over the edge, Daiki thought back to what had happened just a couple hours before.

                “Aominecchi!”

                The blonde’s sincere voice rang through his mind as he wondered why his life suddenly decided to become so hectic. Seriously, just a couple days ago, he was living so simply, and he may have been bored but he would much rather be bored than busy. So now he had this weird kid whose giant apartment he had to clean, and he really hoped he wouldn’t have to encounter him during his shifts. Speaking of which… They hadn’t even planned out their schedule. Shit.

“Surprise me!”

Those annoying words resounded in his head, and he tried to block them out. Fine. If he wanted a surprise, he would get it. He sighed roughly and rolled over so he wouldn’t suffocate himself as he drifted off to sleep.

A week passed, and Daiki decided that it was probably a good time to go clean the model’s apartment. The kid looked like someone who would make a mess in less than twenty-four hours of the room being cleaned. He had Wakamatsu call Kise to see if he was home, and when he received affirmation, he headed over there.

Dragging his equipment into the elevator, Daiki spotted Sara and her grandma from the other day. He held the elevator doors open as they walked in.

                “Hey, you’re that big man that gave me candy!”

                Daiki snorted; that just sounded so wrong coming from the little girl’s mouth.

                “Why yes, yes I am. How are you, grandma?” He nodded with respect to the elderly lady, and she nodded back cheerfully.

                “Oh you know, still alive and healthy! It’s just me and Sara here, and we have quite a lot of fun every day! Do you work here, young man?”

                Daiki nodded in response and showed off his gear.

                “I’m just a house cleaner, really. I’m currently going to uni, and I need to make money to pay off my loans, but I’m not really qualified for anything.”

                “Oh my! Maybe I could hire you if I ever need you! It would be nice to invite you in for a cup of tea and some of my delicious cookies!”

                “They’re soooooooo gooooood!” Sara chirped, hopping around Daiki, and he grinned.

                “Yes, that would be nice,” he replied, handing his business card to the grandma. “Here is our number. Just call whenever you would like to set up an appointment, Grams.”

                The old lady grinned a cute and cheeky smile as she pulled a shaky thumbs up. The elevator doors opened, and the two left, leaving Daiki alone. He really enjoyed talking to them, it just felt so peaceful. Unlike with a certain someone. As the elevator finally reached the top floor—god, it always takes so freakin’ long to get up there—Daiki stepped out and lugged all his stuff to the end of the hall. Before he could knock, the door swung open to reveal a grinning Kise.

_Finally, he actually opened the door without being half dead. Heh._

“Welcome, Aominecchi!”

Kise’s voice rang loud in Daiki’s ears, and he grumbled, “Sheesh, quiet down. You’re causing such a ruckus. Hurry, get back inside so I can get this over with already. And what’s with the Aominecchi anyway?”

“AH,” came Kise’s reply as Daiki was sat on the couch and Kise hurried over to close the door. The house cleaner glanced at the model’s back, he could see the red becoming apparent on Kise’s ears. “It’s, uh, a nickname of respect or friendship… I guess?”

Kise chuckled nervously, turning around but not looking straight at Daiki. Instead of sitting down to discuss the fucking schedule or anything at all related to Daiki’s work, he wandered over to the kitchen to find some tea to brew. Daiki rolled his eyes a little.

“I told you, Blondie, I don’t do friendships with—“

“—clients. I know, Aominecchi. Trust me, this isn’t a friendship!” The blonde called from the kitchen. “I said respect or friendship! It’s one or the other, not both! Don’t worry about it!”

Kise finally came back with the tea and sat down, pulling out his very obviously new phone to check is upcoming schedule. Daiki shrugged, pulling out his planner.

“Whatever. Anyway, when will you not be home?”

Kise scrolled through his calendar, his eyes focused on the screen of his phone.

“Hmm,” he replied thoughtfully. “Actually, it looks like I won’t be home at all for the next two weeks. Aren’t you just devastated, Aominecchi?” He sighed dramatically.

“Nah, I’m actually pretty relieved.” Kise pouted, his lower lip jutting out like he was a kid whose candy had been taken away. Daiki had to resist the urge to grin at it.

“Aominecchi is pretty mean.”

“Who’s to say I’m not?”

That made the blonde’s pout even more apparent, and Daiki had to look away. His reactions were so… endearing.

“Stop pouting!”

“I’m not!”

“Yes, you are!”

 “Argh, okay, whatever. So did you want me to come in anytime next week?”

Kise nodded, “Yes, actually, a weekly cleaning would actually be good.”

“What happened to “surprise me”? Daiki mumbled.

Kise laughed, and the atmosphere suddenly felt so light—much lighter than Daiki usually felt. _Holy crap._ Kise’s laugh was freaking beautiful. It’s—it’s like a ray of sunlight or a lone sunflower in a grassy field kind of laugh or some poetic shit like that. Daiki could feel his cheeks getting a little red and shook his head to get this weird feeling out of his system.

“I was only half-joking that time. You can surprise me with which day you come!” Kise said with a grin. His eyes were kind of crinkled at the end and Daiki just… he just couldn’t.

“Gonna start cleaning now.”

Daiki stood up suddenly, putting on his best glare at the ground so that he wouldn’t look like an idiot who was drooling over Kise’s beautiful face (which he fucking was). Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Kise’s smiling expression turn into a crestfallen one before quickly recovering. He seemed to have enjoyed chatting with Daiki and had this look that he wanted to chat more. Honestly, Daiki enjoyed the small talk too, but he felt like he was starting to get sucked into Kise’s charm. Yeah, Daiki probably looked like an asshole. But he was an asshole with a no-friends-with-clients rule. So that was that.

Kise also stood up, still smiling, although now it looked forced.

“Well, I have to go and handle some business. It’ll only take an hour, so I’ll probably grab some lunch for us along the way.”

Daiki shook his head. “Don’t bother—“ Kise frowned at that. “—I can cook some lunch for us. You look like the type of person who always orders takeout or buys convenience store bentos or some shit like that.”

Kise turned a pleasant shade of red.

“How… how do you know that?!”

“Eh, just a hunch. Now get going, pretty boy. You’ll be late.”

“Pr…pretty boy?! Aominecchi, so mean!”

The blonde stomped out of the apartment, slamming the door, only to open it again.

Daiki smirked.

“Forgot something, pretty boy?”

Kise’s face was still red, and he flushed even redder as he came back in to grab his phone and keys, rushing out and slamming the door again without a word.

Daiki chuckled and pulled out his vacuum. The pretty boy was quite an interesting fellow.


	7. Senpai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Kasamatsu is Ryouta's boss.  
> And yes, Haizaki Shougo is a no good asshole with no life other than wanting to bully Ryouta for the top spot in modeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It's been a long time (about a year) since my last update due to events happening such as talking to a guy. So I took a break but he recently broke my heart so I decided to delve myself in writing fics again LOL. So I have here two chapters for you wonderful Aokise fans! Sorry, chapter 7 is basically a filler chapter to just fill you in on more of Kises backstory as well as DUN DUN DUN.... An antagonist! And what better antagonist than the great Haizaki Shougo! Anyway, I'm back baby! Be ready for the next chapter and some great Aoki fluff! Hugs and kisses, ciao for now!

“The nerve of that Aominecchi!”

Ryouta stomped out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened to the lobby. He just couldn’t believe Aominecchi could be so… mean! Literally everyone he’s met (aside from rival models and actors) have pretty much fallen at his feet and tried everything they could to please him. And then Aominecchi stepped into his life; Ryouta’s first judgement was the opposite of who he really was. Like jeez.

Ryouta pulled out his shades, the ones that cover half of his face, slipping them on and jogging over to the train station. He stepped onto the train heading north, and leaned against the railing, lost in thought. He had to discuss his stalker situation as well as the two-week long photoshoot coming up the following few days with his manager, who was only in town for a few hours before he had to leave again. Kasamatsu, his senpai in high school ended up majoring in business and became his manager when he begrudgingly admitted he couldn’t leave his best friend alone for one second. To Ryouta, Kasamatsu-senpai was one of his only true friends, and Ryouta did not have many friends. Actually, the only ones who loved him for who he was and not his money were his family, Senpai, and Kiyoshi (just recently, although it was probably just cause it was his job). Sadly, everyone else was in it for the money, based on all the unfortunate experiences Ryouta had with dates and the like. One time, a girl Ryouta was head-over-heels in love with straight out told him after two months that she was only dating him so she could borrow money in exchange for sex. After that, Ryouta swore never to date again, and that was about two years ago.

The model shuddered at the memory as he exited the train station and headed toward his modeling company. Right when he was about to go inside his meeting room with Kasamatsu-senpai, an arm reached over, slamming on the door and trapping Ryouta in between the door and whoever was behind him.

_Crap. What the hell? Is this that stalker? But wait, no one can even enter this building without their ID. Then who is this?_

Thoughts whirled around in Ryouta’s mind, and whoever was behind him leaned over and whispered menacingly, “Ryoooouuutaaaa.”

Ryouta visibily shuddered as he suddenly turned around, slapping away the arm that trapped him to the door and glaring at Haizaki Shougo, one of the top models in the agency. Haizaki was already modeling when Ryouta started his job, and seeing as Ryouta was already a hit, he got jealous and declared Ryouta his rival. Not only that, sometimes Haizaki would play these stupid dirty tricks that involved telling fangirls Ryouta’s cell phone number or stealing his clothes and tossing them away while he was in the changing room. Sometimes, Haizaki would even cause harm to Ryouta, but would do so in ways that no one except Kasamatsu could see.

Haizaki snickered, “Not so fast princess.”

Ryouta sighed, “What do you want now, Haizaki?”

Haizaki slammed his fist on the door, right by Ryouta’s head.

“I told you to call me Shougo.”

“Erm okay… Shougo.”

Haizaki smirked, obviously satisfied with himself.

“Good. What are we up to princess?”

“Stop calling me that. I’m having a private meeting with my manager, so if you would excuse me.”

Haizaki tsked and shook his head.

“No can do, princess. Not until you hand over that job that you have over the next few weeks. The one that is going to be on that one beach.”

Ryouta frowned. Haizaki knew full well that Ryouta couldn’t call dibs on modeling jobs anyway, so why was he here trying to steal the job from him when it would make more sense to steal the job through his manager?

“You know I don’t choose my jobs, Shougo. Besides you have seniority anyway? Why don’t you just ask my manager? You can ask him—“

Haizaki slammed his fist against the door again, causing Ryouta to flinch. He couldn’t get his face hit right before a two-week long shoot, hell no. Haizaki leaned in, his bad breath made Ryouta cringe.

“Why don’t YOU ask him, hm? I would listen if I were you, or else. “

Ryouta raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.

“Or else what? You gonna lose your top model status again?”

“Oh hell no, Ryouta. If you know what’s good for you, you would—“

Before Haizaki could finish his threat, the door behind Ryouta opened, and Kasamatsu stepped out.

“Oh, Kise, you’re here.” Kasamatsu took a glance at Haizaki, and his eyebrows furrowed as he understood the situation. “Good morning to you, Mr. Haizaki. I have a meeting with Kise, so if you could please excuse us.”

Before Haizaki could even respond, Kasamatsu grabbed Ryouta by the arm and basically dragged him into the conference room and slamming the door into the grey-haired man’s sneering face.

“God dammit, Kise!” Kasamatsu was speaking behind clenched teeth, and Ryouta could basically see the vein popping out of his senpai’s forehead. “Why don’t you stand up for yourself for once?! I can’t step in every time you get bullied by that bastard Haizaki!”

“No worries, senpai!” Ryouta grinned. “I was basically winning that little argument or whatever you call what just happened. No sweat!”

Kasamatsu shook his head with worry. “Jeez, seeing what just happened makes me not want to leave.”

Ryouta’s eyes softened.

“No, no, senpai! You can’t leave your family just like that! You spend all this time at work as it is, you workaholic! You’re not even supposed to be here! What would your wife, Riko, say? She would probably beat you up, _pffft_!”

Ryouta busted out laughing, and Kasamatsu kicked him in the back.

“Yeouch! Senpaiiii, that huuuurt!” Ryouta’s fake crying and whining made his manager roll his eyes in annoyance.

“First of all, Kise, I’m not your senpai anymore (‘but senpai is still senpai,’ Ryouta whined). That was back in high school. I’m your boss now, ya hear?! Your boss! Second of all… you’re right. My family does need me. So I’ll leave it all with Kiyoshi. Has he been doing his job right?”

Ryouta nodded, beaming.

“Yeah! He’s been a great manager! He’s so on-point! You should’ve seen him—“

“Alright, alright, don’t fill me in on the details. I don’t wanna know how much better the sub manager is doing than me.”

That earned an amused giggle from Ryouta, and Kasamatsu grinned, handing him neatly clipped papers.

“Here’s the schedule you will have to follow when you head over for the shoot. You can bring one person with you so that they can help you relax over the course of the two weeks. I gave a copy to Kiyoshi, so it should all be good. Any questions?”

Ryouta stopped and thought. He didn’t want to cause his senpai to leave his family just because Ryouta was a little chicken about his stalker situation. Yeah, he could handle this himself for now. He’d just tell him later on.

Ryouta grinned, “Nope, nada!”

Kasamatsu nodded and gathered all his supplies to leave.

“Good. Oh, and Kise?”

“Hmm?”

“I know this is your first long photoshoot without me. Be careful, and don’t do anything too crazy or dangerous, okay? And seriously, bring someone along with you so that you don’t get too stressed out and anxious like that last incident… I can’t stand to see you like that again.”

Ryouta nodded very seriously with understanding.

“Of course, senpai. I won’t cause any trouble this time. Promise!”

Kasamatsu nodded with concern before turning to leave. And Ryouta was all alone again.


	8. Chef Daiki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> daiki gets tiny dokis  
> ryouta eats real food for once

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was written in one hour and really unbeta'd  
> read at ur own caution
> 
>  
> 
> also i am sorry. it's been months.

                About an hour had passed, and Daiki had only gotten through Kise’s bedroom out of the entire damn apartment. Fucking dammit, the Pretty Boy had way too many clothes! And the fact that he probably came home every night and literally just stripped in his bedroom, leaving the clothes exactly where he took them off for a week… Fucking nasty. And there were even piles of dust in his room! Like did the guy decide that it was okay to live like this?! After vacuuming every little dust bunny he could find, Daiki promised himself to never live like this and concluded that he was probably a germaphobic if his job didn’t require dealing with germs.

                As he looked at the time, Daiki decided that the blonde would come bursting through the door any time soon—he radiated with so much potential energy that Daiki felt he’d have to ready himself. Daiki stretched, walking into the kitchen to cook lunch for the both of them. He was used to cooking for two anyway, since Satsuki would come over randomly to bug him and eat his food because she couldn’t cook for shit. One time, he had to cook a dinner for Satsuki because she and Kiyoshi were having a “date-at-home” type of deal… and she offered to cook. Before homicide would happen, Satsuki came running to Daiki for help and Kiyoshi still found out in the end. It had been hilarious, and Daiki couldn’t help but chuckle at the fond memory.

                The fridge, surprisingly, was full of food. The last cold probably shocked Pretty Boy into putting actual food into his stomach or else he’d probably die. Sadly, everything was instant-cooked or microwavable food. Daiki simply shook his head. _Figures._ The only real ingredients for actual cooking were eggs and some meat, so Daiki decided to cook a simple instant-noodle-with-eggs-and-noodles dish. He pulled out a pan (unused, with the wrapping still on) and started up the flames on the stove. A couple minutes passed and a pleasant smell wafted through the apartment. As he let the noodles simmer, Daiki leaned back against the counter and decided to ponder.

                Kise Ryouta was a popular model and commercial actor. Wouldn’t he have some girlfriend or something? After seeing the wreck of an apartment, Daiki concluded that there were no signs or anything that a significant other existed in Kise’s life. Of course, unless they did the more “intimate” activities elsewhere, which Daiki doubted was possible, considering Kise’s childish nature and the fact he couldn’t even take care of himself. But could that be the only reason why he didn’t have a partner? He was handsome, Daiki would be willing to admit. Rather, he was pretty, and his smile wasn’t so bad. And he was rich. How are girls not flocking around him? Daiki thought some more, and he realized that he didn’t really know Kise Ryouta’s story.

                The sounds of the apartment door opening and closing snapped Daiki out of his thoughts, and he turned to see Kise staring at him with stars in his golden eyes.

                “A-Aominecchi! This—that—“ He stuttered, attempting to make words and failing. “Food—real—“

                Daiki turned back to the stove, his ears a little red. Thinking about the blonde and then suddenly seeing him made him flustered. Not only that, Pretty Boy came in looking at him with those googly gaga eyes like Daiki was his savior. He couldn’t help but blush.

                “Yeah,” Daiki grunted. “You don’t really have actual food, but I managed to toss some shit together. Hope you like it.”

                He plated the noodles and brought them over to the counter that could also serve as a bar-styled dining area. As he placed the plates on the counter, he and Kise sat in their seats across from one another. He noticed that Kise was still quite dazed, staring at the food like he hadn’t had a decent home-cooked meal for months.

                “I haven’t had a decent home-cooked meal for months!” Kise wiped a tear from his eye, and Daiki suddenly felt nervous.

                “W-well,” Daiki coughed awkwardly. “Let’s…eat?”

                The blinding grin that Kise flashed at him just about lighted up the room, and Daiki almost swore that he heard angels’ voices singing.

                “Yes… yes! Let’s eat!”

                Kise clapped his hands together in thanks and immediately dug in. Daiki couldn’t help but smile as the model grabbed huge forkfuls of noodles and stuffing them into his mouth. He didn’t know why the blonde was so deprived of living skills, but this was quite entertaining to experience. Suddenly, Kise looked up at him and looked straight into his eyes, catching Daiki by surprise.

                “What?”

                Kise grinned. “This is delicious, Aominecchi.”

                Daiki blinked twice and shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

                “No, no! It’s not nothing! This really means a lot to me! This—all this… Thank you! And I’m sorry… for dragging you into this. I’m sure you probably didn’t want to deal with me anymore after the last couple of weeks…”

                Kise chuckled forcibly, his tone entirely apologetic, and it irked Daiki.

                “Stop, don’t apologize. You couldn’t help any of the circumstances you were in. Don’t worry about it.”

                Daiki’s tone was final, and Kise shut his mouth. They continued eating in silence, quite awkwardly, until they finished and Daiki took the dishes to wash them.

                “Ah, let me handle the dishes! I can at least handle thi--” Kise got up to grab a plate, only to have it slip out of his hands and shatter on floor between him and Daiki.

                Daiki immediately facepalmed, setting the dirty dishes in the sink and immediately heading to the closet to pull the broom.

                “Dude, can you do anything right?”

                At first, Kise looked like he was hit in the face. A split second later, a smirk replaced it, and he simply replied with “I have a pretty face.” And that was it. _I don’t fucking get paid enough for this,_ Daiki thought to himself.

                It had taken a good four hours cleaning the rest of Pretty Boy’s apartment. And god, was it awful. Every space Daiki had cleaned the week before was absolutely filled with garbage, and he was beginning to wonder if Kise had parties every night or something. Kise seemed to try to make conversations every so often, but Daiki was too busy cleaning and would usually ignore him. He was there to clean after all, not be a friend. Kise soon gave up and would walk around the apartment pretending to expect the cleanliness of the place, like Daiki didn’t fucking just clean it.

                As Daiki packed his equipment, he could feel the blonde standing at the doorway, as if he wanted to say something.

                “What?”

                “Oh, uh…” The blonde looked kinda uncomfortable, and his ears were kind of red.

                “Just spit it out. Quit acting like a girl.”

                Kise frowned, and he shook his head.

                “Nah, never mind. Thanks for coming, Aominecchi! Next week would be a good time to come back! Although I won’t be home so here.”

                Kise reached into his pocket to pull out what looked like a spare key to the apartment.

                “Oh,” was all Daiki said as he received the key from the blonde. “Cool, okay. Well, see ya.”

                He grabbed his equipment, dragging everything out and leaving as quickly as he could. Kise simply stood at the doorway, watching him leave, looking as if he had something to say, but saying absolutely nothing.

                The next day came quicker than Daiki had wanted—he had a project due and was up till late as fuck A.M., hoping he could salvage some points for his god-awful humanities class. He couldn’t stand that class, and it was the only class he was struggling in. It was a huge ass class with about two hundred students and one professor, making it difficult to not only concentrate but also getting shit done in the class. After turning the project in that morning and preparing to leave for class, he packed all his stuff as Sakurai waited for him. Sakurai was his friend from high school who always tagged along whenever Daiki went to play basketball. He wasn’t a bad player, so Daiki didn’t really care, but he was a little annoying whenever he couldn’t stop apologizing. Daiki soon got used to it, and he just started hanging out with Sakurai more until they hit college.

                “S-so, Aomine. How do you think you did on that project?”

                Sakurai’s nervous chatter kept Daiki company as they headed out of the classroom. Daiki wasn’t really paying attention though—he was thinking about Pretty Boy. Actually, he had been thinking about Pretty Blondie Boy throughout the whole lecture. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t stop thinking about him. It really pissed him off. He didn’t want to focus on anything other than work and school, and he didn’t want to be bothered with such a--

                “Aomine! Watch out!”

                Not paying attention to Sakurai’s warning, Daiki bumped into someone who was in the doorway.

                “Ah, sorry,” Daiki apologized, locking eyes with golden ones.

                He had bumped into Kise Ryouta. Daiki breathed.

                “What. The. Actual. Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *deep breath* Hellooo! I am so so SO sorry. Just dont even expect regular updates from me lmao   
> school and life is cray, lemme tell ya!  
> but dang! almost 2k hits?! That's crazy. I never thought anyone would read my writing.   
> I really hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> I've been working on an aokise one shot that I'm really having trouble with. Does anyone wanna be my beta? I would prefer if you have good grammar and spelling skills, as well as good at giving me constructive criticism! what are the benefits? WELL YOU GET TO BE THE FIRST TO READ MY AOKISE FIC OF COURSE! haha. if you're interested, please contact me on tumblr! (spookykise.tumblr.com) and also follow me LOL


	9. no chill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryouta has no chill  
> Daiki hates bees

It was really nothing short of a miracle. Ryouta honestly had no clue, honestly!

He was simply rushing to class late, his hair all tussled and his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. He was pretty much a mess, so who could blame him for bumping into people? But, Aominecchi, Aominecchi of all people?!

Ryouta stepped back, rubbing his shoulder in pain where he smashed into Aominecchi. Aominecchi was also rubbing his own shoulder, glaring at the blonde.

The tanned man breathed.

“What. The. Actual. Fuck.”

Ryouta trembled and shut his eyes. _Ah, ah. He’s done it now. Aominecchi really hates him now. Aominecchi thinks he’s a stalker now. Aominecchi’s tired of him now. Aominecchi will quit his job now. Aominecchi—_

“I had no clue we were the same age.”

Ryouta opened his eyes, his gaze connecting straight into the other’s navy blue eyes. Rather than angry, he seemed confused, and Ryouta couldn’t help but smile. _He doesn’t hate me!_

“Aominecchi! What are you saying?! Are you saying I look younger than I really am?!”

Ryouta fluttered his eyes a little, he knew that people always fell for the flutter-my-eyelashes-and-look-pretty look. Aominecchi turned a deep shade of red, and Ryouta had to stifle a giggle. Was he BLUSHING?

“Wh-what?! No, it’s—I just, fuck—yes.”

Aominecchi tore his eyes away from Ryouta’s and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. Ryouta smiled, and suddenly, he remembered he was fricken’ late for his lecture.

“Sorry, Aominecchi! I know you are blessed to be in my presence, but I must get going! Chemical reactions aren’t gonna make products by themselves! Since we go to the same school and all, let’s grab some lunch sometime!”

Hurrying through the doorway of the classroom Aominecchi was in, Ryouta almost ran into another person—a brunette—who immediately apologized although it wasn’t his fault at all. And all throughout the entire lecture, he couldn’t stop thinking about the navy-haired loser.

 

 

Throughout the entire week, Ryouta only got to see Aominecchi twice. Just twice. It was a bit of a downer, and yet Ryouta could still feel so positive about it. Every time he was able to catch the other before he left for the next class, Ryouta would do anything he could to get Aominecchi to go out for lunch with him. But every time, his offer was rejected, even when he offered to pay. Ryouta also tried to ask him icebreaker questions, tried to get him to open up about himself and who he was, and it was all for naught. What would it take for them to quit it with the professional relationship and simply just become friends?

Ryouta sighed as sat in his chair, getting brushed up for his next modeling session.

“Something bothering you?” Kiyoshi asked, as he was writing down notes for Ryouta’s upcoming modeling gigs.

“Tell me, Kiyoshi,” Ryouta sighed again. His sub-manager glanced up expectantly, and his eyes were sincere and brown. “You know Aominecchi, right? Can you tell me about him?”

“Oh, uhhhhhhhhh.”

After a very long pause, Kiyoshi finally answered.

“We first met while I was making out with my girlfriend, who happens to be his very best friend.”

Ryouta’s eyes widened.

“Holy shit.”

Kiyoshi nodded solemnly.

“Yup. You should’ve seen his eyes. They looked like he was…like in the _zone_ or something!”

They both shuddered simultaneously.

“But yeah, other than that, he’s a pretty chill guy. He can definitely cook a good meal. He’s also super ticklish from what I recall. And he’s a germaphobic, which is probably how his lazy self got hired by the cleaning company.”

Ryouta nodded, frowning. He knew all this stuff already. He’s literally experienced it from all the times Aominecchi was over.

“Oh, Satsuki also told me that he really, really, really loves bumblebees. I’m not sure why though?”

Ryouta perked up. Finally, some new information! Maybe Ryouta could lure Aominecchi into going to lunch with him by bribing him with a jar of bumblebees! Genius.

“Perfect,” he mumbled dreamily.

“Whasdat?” Kiyoshi looked at him, confused as hell.

“Ah, uh, nothing.” Ryouta flashed a grin at him, excited to put his plan into action.

The next day, Ryouta ran as fast as he could to catch Aominecchi before he could leave the lecture hall. He clutched tightly onto the jar and held it behind his back. Happily whistling, he was prepared to see how the navy-haired man would react. Would he hug him tightly and thank him? Would he jump for joy and grab the jar? Would he kiss him? Would he—wait. What. Kiss? KISS? What. No way. They were just friends. Wait, they weren’t even friends yet. They were just—

“Yo, Pretty Boy. ‘Sup.”

Ryouta quickly turned to see Aominecchi standing right beside him. Ryouta was burning red.

“A-A-Aominecchi! H-heyyy! I’m just, you know, just hanging around and stuff and…uh.”

Aominecchi’s eyebrows knit in confusion and mild annoyance.

“Uhh, okay. Cool. See ya.”

“No, wait!”

Ryouta brought the jar forward, trying to put it in front of Aominecchi’s face to show him. But with his shitty luck, the jar fell from his hands and shattered on the ground. The five bumblebees he spent hours collecting flew out, buzzing around Aominecchi’s head. Ryouta laughed, his eyes twinkling and waiting for Aominecchi to grab his shoulders and ki—

“WHAT THE ACTUALY FLYING FUCKITY FUCK—“

                _Uh._

Aominecchi stood there for a split second, his usually dark face turned stark white, his eyes slowly adjusting to the speed of the bees fluttering. And then all hell broke loose.

“Arrrrrghhhhhh!! Aghhhhh!!!”

The bluenette swatted his arms around wildly, shouting and grunting like mad. Ryouta just stood there, eyes wide, his arms just hanging uselessly at his side.

“Nghhhh. What the fu—Where the hell did these little spawns of Satan come from?! I swear, I swear—ARGHHHHH!”

Aominecchi starting jumping, his arms still swinging around crazily. Ryouta started cracking up

“Pfft.”

“Kise, what the fuck!”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“Grrrraaaaaaghhhhh!”

Aominecchi ran towards the outer gate, yelling behind him.

“I’ll fucking get you for that, Kise!”

Ryouta snickered. He didn’t mean for that to happen. Honestly, he didn’t. He was hoping to get some lunch with him, but he found another weakness of Aominecchi’s instead. Ryouta walked into the classroom, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

“This is fun.”


End file.
